Being Sherlock Holmes
by eviefaith
Summary: Being Sherlock Holmes is tremendously fascinating, from the outside. But what's it like being the detective on the inside? Dealing with feelings and trying to stay a mystery. John Watson wants to find out... (A/N: POV does change throughout the story depending on the plot. Oh, and this is a Johnlock story!)


I was left alone with the walls again. With the voices in my head. Surfacing were the most disturbing parts of my mind, those thoughts, those memories, those... things deep in the depths of my brain, things that I never let myself think about, that only awaken when my thoughts imprison me.

These were the moments that _got to me_. The moments that tugged at my insides, forcing uninvited memories to be remembered and wounds to rip back open. Even in a room full of people, I can't escape _these_ moments when they come. They hit at me with a force so striking, so diligent that I lose my balance and find it hard to breath sometimes.

_Where is John?_

Laid on the couch, I was curled up into myself, my arms fastened tightly around my legs and my head stabbed as far into myself as possible. _Deep breaths, _I had to remind myself. It was hard to ignore what was going on around me, or at least, what I _thought_ was going on.

_He's not your friend? Why would anyone be YOUR friend?_

_Who would like you?_

_John Watson can do so much better. You're only bringing him down Sherlock._

A sharp twinge shot throughout my body.

_Why haven't you killed that irritating club owner from down the street yet?_

_You know you want to be bad. Just do it. It will feel nice._

_What makes you think you're worth his time?_

_I told you not to get attached Sherlock, caring is not an advantage._

The voices were coming from every direction. I felt heavy, like a gigantic weight had just been dropped against my chest. I felt like a puppet, and my master was pulling the strings of my heart all at once causing them to tighten. My chest felt too profound.

_He'll leave you soon._

_What did you expect to happen?_

_He doesn't care._

Breathing became increasingly more difficult...

_I hope you didn't eat again today Sherlock. You don't want to add any more weight to yourself now, do you?_

My nails dug firmly into my skin. I swear, I couldn't move; the walls were _so_ close now. Even if I wanted to move my arms, there wouldn't be anywhere to move them too. _I was trapped_.

_Lonely, Sherlock?_

I know what I could do to calm down; I know what I wanted to do. But I also know what I should do, what John would want me to do. What John had taught me to do. _Ugh_, he will be home soon. He _will _be home soon. He _has_ to be.

_You're nothing you know._

_Worthless._

_Useless._

_Nothing but an accident that wasn't fixable._

_You weren't wanted. You never are._

"John…" I whispered desperately into the seclusion.

* * *

It was a quiet day at work today, we weren't busy like we usually are. It was coming up to two o'clock in the afternoon and my last patient had just left and my next appointment wasn't for another hour. _Time for some lunch, I_ thought, grabbing my coat and walking out the door.

"Off out?" Sarah's voice stopped me in my tracks.

"Er yeah, I was just going to get a late lunch. Do you want anything?" I asked awkwardly.

She smiled politely towards me, "No thank you John, I ate earlier."

I shot her a slight nod and quickly rushed out of the door, pulling my collar up as the cold air smacked against my face. Things with Sarah were still strange since our first and only date a couple of weeks ago, the one where Sarah was almost killed by chinese assassins. We hadn't been out or really spoken since, I had thought about trying to start things up again with her, but it didn't really feel right. Sarah was a lovely woman, don't get me wrong, she was beautiful and intelligent, but the chemistry didn't feel right. I suppose that happens when you are nearly assassinated on a first date, but even before that, it was hard to keep things flowing. Hmm.

I wasn't really in the mood for anything to eat, I didn't' feel hungry. If anything I just wanted an excuse to get out the surgery for a bit. I figured I probably should eat something though, all I had was a slice of toast for breakfast. Nevertheless, I started walking down the street, there was a coffee kiosk by Barts I liked to go to.

Ten minutes or so later, I reached the kiosk.

"Hi, how can I help you?" The woman's cheery smile and attitude made me feel droopy for some reason. Today was going far too slow._  
_

"Er I'll have a large coffee, no sugar. And a danish, please."

You know when you have those days where everything you do feels delayed, like when you do something and it takes a couple of moments for you to realize what you've actually done and it's almost like you're living in slow motion? Today is one of those days. I didn't get a good nights sleep last night either, I don't most nights but either Sherlock was exceptionally loud or my attention to detail and sounds were unusually irritating last night.

"John?!" I heard my name called out as I took a bite out of my danish, looking around to see who it was who shouted me. The voice was very familiar.

"John what are you doing here?" The hoarse voice came from behind me.

"Oh Greg!" I exclaimed as I turned around, swallowing the bite of danish I had in my mouth. "I'm just on my lunch break from work, what are you doing here? You working a case?" Lestrade looked distressed, either he did have a case on or he was having trouble with his wife again. I'd usually opt for the first one, but they've argued so much recently it's not a safe bet anymore. Poor Lestrade, I did feel for him.

"Err yeah sort of," He remarked, raising his hand to the back of his head uncomfortably. "Have you heard from Sherlock recently?"

What an odd thing to ask, the question caught me off guard a little. "Yeah yeah I guess so, I mean I spoke to him this morning before I left for work. That was around 7:30-ish or so."

Lestrade pursed his lips. "Oh well if you speak to him can you tell him to give us a ring. I've been trying to get in contact with him since this morning, but he hasn't answered his phone."

That was very, very strange. Sherlock _always _answered his phone, he was the king of punctuality. Especially if it was Lestrade trying to get in contact with him too, Lestrade only called when he needed Sherlock's help on a case. Maybe it was silly of me, but I started to feel anxious. I'm sure there was no need to worry though, right?

"Uhh yeah yeah I will do, sorry Greg he must just be busy on one of his own cases or something." I really didn't know what to tell him, even if that were true, Sherlock would still answer his phone. God- what was he doing that was so important!?

"I know you two have your own cases but I could really use his help on this one," Greg looked down as he spoke. I know he disliked consulting Sherlock a bit, it always made him feel undermined. At least, that what it appears to do anyhow.

"I'll speak to him and get back to you," I looked down at my watch, eagerly wanting to leave so that I could call Sherlock. "Sorry Greg I do have to get back to work now, I'll call you as soon as I can though alright?"I started to sweat a bit.

"Yeah, thanks John. I'll talk to you later." Lestrade walked off in a huff, obviously on edge about something. That made two of us.

I took another few bites out of my danish, washed it down with some coffee and got out my phone to call Sherlock. _I felt nervous. _Ugh why did I feel so uneasy about this? I am probably just overreacting.

I took my phone out and found Sherlock's contact, pressed dial and waited.

_Ring ring._

_Ring ring._

"C'mon Sherlock..." I muttered impatiently to myself.

_Ring ring. _

_Ring ring._

OK... I'm really getting worried now. Sherlock usually always picked up on the first ring, occasionally he'd pick up on the second, but like I said- he's the king of punctuality. Something wasn't right.

_Ring ring._

_Beep._

The sound of the beep drowned out every other noise in London. _Why _wasn't Sherlock answering? _Where _was he? _What _could he possibly be doing that was so bloody important?! _  
_

I quickly threw my phone back into my coat pocket and started walking hastily towards the main road to catch a taxi. My heart was pounding, I couldn't understand what was going on. As far as I was aware Sherlock didn't have a case on, just light night he was moaning to me about how bored he was and harassing me to play cluedo with him. _I'll find out soon enough. _I realize this was a bit silly and a tad bit of an overreaction, just because the man didn't answer his phone didn't mean something was wrong.

_But it did. _

"Taxi!" I hauled, holding my arm out a few moments later.

It drove past me. _Ugh! _Not now, please. Not now. I kept out my arm, another taxi following, trying to get the attention of the next one.

No luck, it drove straight past me. _Bloody hell! _I was getting agitated now.

What felt like a lifetime later, I saw a free taxi coming but it's brake lights weren't on and didn't look like it intended on stopping for me. Feeling angry and frustrated, I stepped out into the road a few paces and held my arm forcefully out in front of me, commanding the taxi to stop. The taxi driver slammed on his brakes moments before reaching me, his face stricken with confusion. Swiftly, I made my way into the back of the cab.

"221B Baker Street- **_now_**."


End file.
